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Photo Of The Week: This Happened In Minneapolis

Photo Of The Week: This Happened In Minneapolis
Anne Sophie Goninet

A local murder case that set off a worldwide movement arrived this week at its verdict, after three weeks of witness and expert testimonies: A Minneapolis jury found former police officer Derek Chauvin guilty of murder and manslaughter in the death of George Floyd.

A bystander's video had captured Chauvin kneeling on the neck of a 46-year-old black man named George Floyd — for more than nine minutes. Floyd's death last May 25 sparked a global outcry against racial injustice and police brutality, with a clear message: Black Lives Matter.

This week's verdict was a landmark for the United States, where police officers are rarely prosecuted (and almost never convicted) for custodial deaths. It remains to be seen if this victory for activists fighting against systemic racism will bring lasting change.

Photographer Stephanie Keith captured a young woman's reaction to the trial's verdict at the Hennepin County Government Center in Minneapolis.

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Society

Parenthood And The Pressure Of Always Having To Be Doing Better

As a father myself, I'm now better able to understand the pressures my own dad faced. It's helped me face my own internal demands to constantly be more productive and do better.

Photo of a father with a son on his shoulders

Father and son in the streets of Madrid, Spain

Ignacio Pereyra*

-Essay-

When I was a child — I must have been around eight or so — whenever we headed with my mom and grandma to my aunt's country house in Don Torcuato, outside of Buenos Aires, there was the joy of summer plans. Spending the day outdoors, playing soccer in the field, being in the swimming pool and eating delicious food.

But when I focus on the moment, something like a painful thorn appears in the background: from the back window of the car I see my dad standing on the sidewalk waving us goodbye. Sometimes he would stay at home. “I have to work” was the line he used.

Maybe one of my older siblings would also stay behind with him, but I'm sure there were no children left around because we were all enthusiastic about going to my aunt’s. For a long time in his life, for my old man, those summer days must have been the closest he came to being alone, in silence (which he liked so much) and in calm, considering that he was the father of seven. But I can only see this and say it out loud today.

Over the years, the scene repeated itself: the destination changed — it could be a birthday or a family reunion. The thorn was no longer invisible but began to be uncomfortable as, being older, my interpretation of the events changed. When words were absent, I started to guess what might be happening — and we know how random guessing can be.

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